by Fiona Barnes
Cate only nodded, listening and contently prepping. One of her favorite simple tasks was chopping vegetables. The very action was calming, while being useful.
"I appreciate you talking to me," Tom said.
"I appreciate you talking to me," Cate answered sincerely, not looking up.
"I need to express myself better," Tom was harshly introspective. He repeated, as if reassuring himself, "I'm still figuring myself out. I'm learning as I go."
"Tom−"
"I own my own regrets," Tom unintentionally danced around the conversation−one, two, three, turn. Cate followed easily, familiar with the movement. He often had trouble cementing his words with so much activity in his head. With Cate, however, he was honest and open. "You can't live your life around me. Nobody should. It takes away our individuality."
Tom knew Cate well. He'd known her longer than he'd known himself, she felt somedays.
"I'm so proud of you," Cate said now, quietly. "I owe so much to you. I've come so far because of you."
"You owe me nothing!" Tom turned from the window, emphatic.
"I wish you would have spoken up sooner, but on the other hand, we're here now because you didn't. Everything happens for a reason and we're each exactly where we're supposed to be."
"I completely agree. That's why it's not a mistake for me, it's a learning experience."
Cate stopped chopping. She met his brilliant, demonstrative eyes with hers, blinking at the sting of movement. She was onion-bruised.
"We've always had this connection. Whenever we speak honestly and sincerely. It's so−" She struggled for the word.
"It's the trust and respect between two people," Tom filled in.
"Sometimes I think this knowledge would've saved our marriage," Cate smiled wistfully at Tom.
For a minute, he met her eyes, sharing a deep understanding. They had built a bond that wouldn't end, an unbelievable friendship that would only grow through the years. Each was grateful for the other and appreciative of the work they'd contributed. It wasn't holiday sentiment when everything was already wonderful. It was two people who shared a vision of family, and worked to preserve it as best they could.
Finally, Tom said, "It's almost sad to say that I've felt this way forever. Trauma and extensive therapy unlocked it. Sometimes life sucks that way."
"It all happens for a reason," Cate told Tom. "That's the important part."
"I agree."
Cate scooped the shiny onions into a waiting sauté pan and moved onto vibrant green celery. The only sounds were the whoosh and slap of her chopping.
After a silence, Tom continued, "I have a lot of work to do on myself yet but I love where we all are right now. The trust and understanding is comforting. The communication between you and I is wonderful."
Gratitude rushed through Cate. The holiday season always brought her extra sentiment but this Tom was so close to the individual she'd fallen in love with. He was a good man, and he was trying. She was happy to see him and yet cemented in her decision that she'd chosen correctly, putting herself first. She knew there wasn't much hope he'd come to live forever, but with faithful therapy, he could visit freely.
"I wish we could stay in this moment forever," Cate sighed contentedly.
"Me too. It's comforting and relaxing."
Tom stood. Moving toward the refrigerator, he inclined his head, looking for permission.
Cate nodded. "Of course."
Tom paused at the fridge door, his back to Cate. "When I was at my lowest, you were always there to pick me up. I remember that." He turned to her now, serious. His voice was low and quiet. "It means the world to me."
And this, Cate thought. This full moment topped her joyous holiday season, her beautiful year. Her precious children coming home, their grateful father poking in her full fridge, casually dropping his appreciation.
Cate finished chopping the celery and added it to the pan of onions. She stirred the soft mix, noting the vivid yellow of the melting butter. Gracefully, Cate spun back to the wooden chopping block. She lifted the wide knife over stiff, white mushrooms, her grateful tears real this time.
Chapter Eighty
Cate's house was full. Full of people, music, laughter and festivity. Candles were lit on every mantle and tabletop. Each fireplace showcased a roaring fire. In the great room, Nic had set up a makeshift stage. His band was casually doing a sound check without any idea how incredible it sounded to Cate. Colorful, inviting food overflowed the sunny kitchen island; rich drinks, that only complimented the delectable menu, were flowing from the mahogany bar in the elegant dining room.
Laughter rang out. Music played quietly from speakers, filling the air until Nic and his crew were ready to go on. The easy buzz of talk showed longtime friends catching up with one another, feeling the happy season.
Melissa opened the festive front door with a secretive smile on her face. She hung her coat up in the hall closet, barely able to contain herself. Sylvia followed behind, looking hurriedly around for Cate.
The women exchanged glances. Melissa leaned in to whisper, "Bet she's in the kitchen."
"Should we stop for a drink?" Sylvia asked, hopefully pointing to the dining room.
Melissa held a gilt-edged bag aloft by two twined handles. "I have champagne."
"Oh, you're good," Sylvia nodded seriously.
"Apparently, you're better. Who put this deal together?"
The two women hurried forward, rapidly surveying each room and waving to people they knew. Two sets of tall high heels clicked through the house, arriving finally at the end of the long hallway that opened onto the dazzling great room. They both quickly canvased for Cate: she was at the far end of the large, loud, happy room.
Melissa leaned over to Sylvia and whispered, "Let me lead."
Sylvia only nodded, a fierce grin on her lips.
Melissa waved casually at Cate then crossed the room to Nic. Cate's head cocked, unsure, as she watched the two. Nic lowered his head to Melissa. He listened to her whisper something intently, his hand thrown over the top of the mic stand in front of him. Suddenly, a slow grin lit his beautiful face.
Cate read the word, "Really?" on Nic's lips as his eyes found hers then moved on, absorbed. Cate looked around the bright, happy room, then back, confused. She noticed Alex and Sylvia had joined the earnest group now. They all gathered on the stage, crowded among amps, guitars and monitors, cables running everywhere beneath their feet. Strings of Christmas lights hung, dancing, over the group's heads. The lights gave the area a warm, soft glow, as if the band had stepped into a cozy pub in Dublin.
"What do you think they're up to?" Tom asked, moving in near Cate's elbow.
"I'm not sure."
"Nothing good," Mike joked, raising a beer to his lips.
Just then Nic lifted a mic. He turned once to his drummer, signaling. The young, slender man played a slow drum roll then tossed his sticks in the air and caught them, the movement automatic. The drummer's face was casually lit with earnest passion.
Melissa laughed and clapped, pleased.
"Hey, everyone," Nic stated into the mic, his voice deep and smooth as honey. "Melissa has an announcement. Can I have your attention?"
Voices quieted and "Shh!" was heard repeatedly. Someone turned the music down. As the buzz slowly died, Melissa stepped toward the mic, delicately avoiding cables as if they were rattlesnakes.
"Thanks, Nic." She smiled toward him quickly then faced the patient crowd again. "Hi, everyone. Cate, would you come up here, please?"
Melissa gestured for Sylvia to move closer and passed Alex the bag with the pretty champagne bottles clinking inside of it. Cate made her way to the stage, squeezing between hordes of smiling people, uncertain. She hadn't been this awkward or nervous since her last award nomination.
Sylvia watched Cate approach, her face lit with pride. She'd watched Cate raise herself from nothing.
Melissa held the mic toward Sylvia, "You want to−?"
"You do it." Sylvia smiled, filled with unusual gratitude for the moment. Cate had taken her along on this journey. And what a sweet and beautiful ride it had been so far.
Cate moved past John and reached the motley group. John inclined his head as she passed. If it was what he suspected, it was well-deserved.
"Cate," Melissa began. "We'd like to thank you for another wonderful year−"
"You brought me bubbly for that?" Cate joked, relaxing. "I can do that with my eyes closed." The crowd laughed. Her eyes swept the magnificent room, looking out over all her friends and family. Rick was there, smiling, his arm around a beautiful woman. Mike stood nearby, his eyes watching Cate's every expression. Catching her attention, he winked.
"You're one of my dearest friends," Melissa continued. "And I'm so proud of you."
Cate cocked her head and smiled, no longer so sure of herself. She turned her full attention back to her producer. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Melissa smiled an angelic smile. She continued, stalling, "Before I make my announcement, I want to ask all of you something. Are you having fun?"
The crowd yelled, lighting up the room.
"Don't you love the productions Cate puts on?"
Chorus' of appreciation could be heard. Tom yelled the loudest.
"Wouldn't you love to be able to call Cate up any old time, for a meal?"
"Always do!" Rick raised his voice to be heard above the swell of the crowd. The excitement was contagious.
"I would like to be the first to congratulate you. I know all your friends will join me−" she gestured toward the expectant crowd.
Cate held her breath. She felt for Alex's soft hand and looked at Nic, who held her eyes, a beautiful smile lighting his face.
"Congrats, Mom," he said simply.
"You did it," Alex told her. "Again."
"You're the proud owner of a restaurant," Sylvia finished for Melissa, who was tearing up. "Cate's Place will be open next year."
Applause broke out and Cate broke into tears, grabbing for her children. When she raised her head to the sky and let out a fierce war cry, everyone started talking at once. The noise level became deafening; Cate couldn't hear anything. The moment felt alive to her. She was in heaven, surrounded by her children as the crowd pushed forward, everyone wanting to congratulate her.
It was her favorite Thanksgiving of all time.
Epilogue
One year later, Cate stood in front of gracious windows overlooking the water. It was the eve of another holiday season. Tomorrow, her place would bustle with the festivity of her Foundation's annual party. Alex and Nic would arrive−Al to oversee the job she'd accepted as Cate's...everything, and Nic to play live, of course.
Cameras would be set up behind her. The whole thing would be taped for The Show, from her children's arrival to the party itself, including interviewing any guests willing to speak on camera.
Rick O'Shea, Clark, Nan, Joan, Eric, as well as Calista, Tomi, Traci, Cindy, Jessica, and, of course, the exuberant Uncle Tony, had been sent engraved invitations. Cate hadn't been able to see any of them as much as she'd liked over the astonishing year. She was learning to balance all of her new priorities.
Over the past few months alone, Cate had worked eighteen hour days on the precious restaurant. It was her new baby.
She loved this life she'd been gifted, and she was going to give back. All the stops had been pulled out for tomorrow's elegant party. Presents of all sizes and shapes were piled high under a tall, royal spruce. There were more hidden in the basement: bicycles, tricycles and wagons. Outdoor playsets, camping gear and gym mats would keep boys and girls of all ages busy. The gifts were meant to inspire children and families alike. Cate couldn't wait to see the final set-up. Her team would build one of everything, displaying it in the second spacious (empty) dining room, the water as a backdrop. Cate already knew she'd be hard-pressed to stay off the equipment.
Moms could expect gift certificates for spa treatments with babysitting, tuition reimbursement, as well as vacation packages to bright and sunny destinations in the upcoming winter months. Cate had personally packaged up certificates for her restaurant (she twisted her lips to hold a dazzling smile back), along with sets of her cookbooks, her show videos, and Nic's CD's, autographed. There was a line-up of celebrity visits planned, as well as activities that might keep the children busy for hours while the parents relaxed and visited with good food circling, drinks poured and a beautiful view, the one Cate currently stood in front of.
She never ceased to be amazed at the water's power. She stood on the porch, before a bank of enormous windows overlooking the waves. The incredible view created a reaction of instant peace and awe in her, every time she looked out. The never-ending strength of the constant blue-green waves rolling toward her brought a sense of calm, a message that nature was always steady. It was a worthy reminder that some things were greater, and often more important, than her.
Views of the water were evident from each of the large rooms in the three-story brick building she'd leased. The porch's large, flat windows offered the most panoramic, and was often fully booked throughout the first few months Cate had been in business. She'd expected to start slowly, building a steady clientèle, but from day one, Cate had experienced a steady flow.
She heaved a content sigh. Cate was grateful, so grateful. As she turned from her reverie, the loud hum of diner's conversation slowly filled her ears, as if it had turned back on when she tuned in. Laughter rang out occasionally, along with the clink of heavy silverware on good china.
Cate had finalized every detail herself. She painstakingly chose the linen napkins that matched elegant white tablecloths. She decided which brand of steak knife and whether or not it would sit by a table knife or be delivered with each fat cut of meat.
Cate had witnessed an amazing group pull her dream together, and she'd be sure to thank each of them, sincerely, at the restaurant Christmas party next month. Cate had planned a black tie affair with her team in mind, not sure how to say thank you for all they'd built for her.
Cate also wanted to thank her all of her employees, from waitstaff to chefs. She'd written generous bonus checks for each staff member, and planned to announce two promotions.
And if it wasn't for Sylvia; John; of course, Melissa; and even Skye; Cate wasn't certain she would be here. She'd asked her lawyer to draw up papers and soon she'd put contracts in the stockings hung on the fireplace mantel. Santa had brought each of her friends shares in her restaurant.
Her restaurant. The words still filled her with pride and glee.
Turning from the outrageous view, Cate felt rejuvenated. She was going to head home for the night, eat a quick meal and sleep a few hours before getting up to do it all, gloriously, again. Grateful, she smiled; she was so very thankful.
Making her way between tables, stopping to address guests and ask after their families and their meals, Cate found herself again pleased by every detail. The food smelled delicious, hand-prepared by chefs she'd chosen, each piece ripe and fine. The set-up was gorgeous, the music was right, the customers content. Overall, the atmosphere was one of a soft ambiance, warm, a little bit dark, save the fat candles that glowed at the center of each table. The air felt friendly but refined. It was a place to bring your children when their report card reflected hard work; the special place you'd think of when your boss promoted you; where your love would call to request a table when it was time to propose. It was home, on an more elegant scale.
Hungry, momentarily holding a hand to her stomach as if to quiet it, Cate smiled at a guest, "That smells so good!"
"Will you join us, Cate?" he asked. "You must be ravenous."
"Thank you, I'm heading home to sleep," Cate told the polished, older man.
"You must be so proud," his elegant wife spoke up then, leaning forward so Cate could hear her. Her diamond earrings sparkled, matching kind eyes.
For a minute, tears threatened. "I am," Cate said, her hand gently drapi
ng the back of the handsome man's chair. "It was a labor of love. It still is."
She thanked the couple and moved past, knowing they'd be likely to pay for the soldier and his family seated nearby. The wife hadn't been able to tear her eyes off the sweet couple and their two young boys, who sat politely.
Cate noted with tonight's hostess to offer both parties gift certificates to return, hastily jotting thank you for your kindness on one, and thank you for your service on the other. The pretty hostess smiled, blinking at Cate. She loved her job, especially her appreciative boss. It was gratifying to deliver moments like these. The hostess imagined the older couple accepting the gift casually, and the younger couple stuttering, wanting to give it back.
Patting the young girl's shoulder, Cate moved past. In her office, she shut down the computer, noting the fat tin foil swan that undoubtedly held her dinner. The chef had drawn a smiley face on it in black permanent marker. Grinning, Cate slid her knee-length, wool coat on, buttoning it and pulling the collar tight against her. She slid high heels off her feet and exchanged them for low-heeled, tall boots, exhaling in gratitude. If only she could get away with bare feet, or thick bunny slippers, on the dining floor, she thought with a chuckle. Maybe tomorrow she would, for the children's benefit.
Delighted with the idea, Cate strode out the front door with only one backwards glance. Adjusting the leather strap on the messenger bag she carried over one shoulder, she held a stylish cap to her head with her other hand. Cate stepped out into the chilly night, preparing to walk the short distance home.
It was only a few miles and almost all flat. The sidewalks were clear and houses were beginning to be decorated for the season. She loved to peer at the happy families moving within, through glowing windows, imagining their stories. There was Tommy, who'd gotten an A in algebra today, ducking his head at his father's praise. And Sally, his older sister, who'd tutored him. Their mother was so proud she'd baked a chocolate cake, their favorite. She carried it into the dining room, beaming as their father sipped coffee, smiling behind the mug. Their faithful dog lay curled at their feet.
